The Dollhouse

Chapter 6

"WHAT is that?"

Everything was dreadful about Monday morning. It was a pale day, and I had woken up to a disappointing breakfast. Someone had set a soggy bowl of cereal on the table. Too polite to push it away, I glumly choked down the cornflakes swimming in milk.

I wasn't even fussed about the commotion. My stepmother reacted like a corpse had been discovered on the living room floor - but nothing seem to compare to the nail-biting misery I was about to be put through.

Today was our first day of school.

"Oh, that's only Whiskers!" Daddy shouted. He was engrossed in the newspaper.

Arabella came into the kitchen. Her made-up face was creased in confusion, as is she could hardly dare to imagine a feline in her home. "Excuse me?"

"The cat. I got her for Lydia and Violet."

"Well, it would have been nice if someone had enlightened me," she said brusquely.

"Don't fret, it's only a welcoming present."

"I'm not fretting," Arabella began to adjust his collar. "It's just I've been left to organize the bake sale this weekend, and Helen still wants to bring casserole. Who would want to buy casserole at ten o'clock in the morning? The choir has booked on that day too. We might have to change venue to the tennis club, because they've claimed the hall..."

As she straightened Daddy's tie, our eyes met. I hadn't noticed I had been staring at them. A small act of marital affection seemed so alien to me. I had gone into a trance just watching the scene.

I suddenly felt embarrassed. "So, where is it? Where you work?"

"I volunteer. Haverbrook Christian church."

"That's, uh, nice."

Through the window, a school bus came to a stop at the front of the house. The familiar yellow caused a shudder to go through me, and to my horror the sound of footsteps told me I wasn't mistaken.

Rudy grabbed the paper lunch bag from the counter. His mother gave him a stern look.

"You need to stop skipping breakfast, my dear. You're not giving your body the best start for the day," she paused as Violet sauntered into the kitchen. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"I had coffee."

Our stepmother raised her elegant eyebrows.

"Drinking caffeinated beverages isn't healthy at your age. I've packed PBJ sandwiches in case you can't stomach those awful school lunches. But I want everyone to eat a substantial breakfast tomorrow. Toast, cereal, I don't care. No coffee."

The shabby district schoolbus was packed.

With quaking legs, I considered it a great achievement I had managed to board without humiliating myself. I greeted the driver with a soft 'good morning' (which he didn't acknowledge), and darted to safety - which happened to be the seat next to Violet.

I didn't dare turn around. A sea of curious faces were watching us. I could feel them observing every detail. Our fancy house. My faltering gaze. They do say you can only create a first impression once.

So far, I had already painted a portrait.

So much for a new identity.

"For God's sake Lydia, stop looking so anxious. You set me on edge," Violet hissed.

My sister was in a terrible mood. As we had made our way down the quaint garden path, she had walked the way she always did. I found myself imitating her strides - as if I could somehow step into her confidence and make it my own.